Victorious Battle For LA
by LordDreadSigma
Summary: Aliens have invaded. Major Vega led the offensive to retake LA, but can she hold it against the horde of mongrel dogs coming for the once great city of the stars? And are they really the greatest threat to our world? Jori, OCs, femslash, and a fair crossover with ICarly.
1. The Fight Begins

**AN:** I didn't actually watch Battle for LA or Battle: Los Angeles, but they did inspire me to write this.

None of the characters are particularly themselves but it's still rather interesting...says another guy...uh...chuck, yeah chuck likes it.

**Jori**, so just a warning. Also charcter death.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Victorious**, but I can dream.

* * *

It's been one year since the Derg invaded Earth. The Jackal people, or mongrels as the mass populous calls them, came for our planet but didn't need or want us. Hell, we're food to them…

"Enemy flyers!" The loud bellow sends the troops observing L.A. from a hill top into cover.

As you would expect their weapons are more advanced, but not necessarily more effective…just prettier when they shoot. They die easily enough but they caught us off-guard; our bases and capitals were all but wiped from existence, leaving a scattered resistance that quickly fell back into the countryside when they took our cities.

Then they began unloading those damn carriers; massive vessels filled with soldiers, equipment, supplies, and Mechs, tanks with legs. Their plan is to overwhelm us, but they have no idea how dangerous we can be when we're desperate…

"We're ready to launch, sir!"

Sorry, but it's time to show them… Jamison will take over for me.

"See ya' on the other side, Lieutenant." Colonel Marlo straps in and prepares to launch.

"Sir." I salute him. It had been an honor to serve under him for this past year of fighting.

He initiates the final activation protocol and presses the button. As the signal is sent to the booster the rocket engine is engaged and the metal tube launches from its hiding spot in a small canyon. The colonel uses the full array of maneuvering equipment to keep the rocket on course for the ship and away from enemy countermeasures. As the warhead flies it's modified MOAB payload arms.

Enemy targeting can't keep up with the projectile as it streaks toward the carrier currently unloading troops and supplies. The Colonel opens the mic,

"Fuuuucckkkkk Yoouuu!" The rocket slams into the carrier at Mach forty. The hyper reinforced nose slices through the vessel for several feet leaving a massive steel ass hanging off the side of the ship, one second later the nukes detonate. A sea of fire engulfs the side of the ship as the explosion tears apart a fair chunk of it, however the real damage is the secondary explosions that begin to cascade throughout the ship. What's left of the scrap metal falls to the earth killing anything that survived the original blast wave.

* * *

As the ship falls a young officer much closer to the city prepares for the next stage of this campaign,

"Captain West, get your birds up here!" Major Vega barks the command as she moves off her little hill.

"Yes, ma'am." The captain pushes down on the stick, the solid black Attack Cobra with a red rose painted on the side pitches forward as the engine roars. The other nineteen aerial vehicles follow as quickly as possible, though only the other cobra can match its speed.

"Captain Harris, give me a sit rep." She's still moving down the hill as she contacts her western flank commander.

"That explosion is certainly drawing their attention, but they'll be back in form in no time, ma'am."

"As soon as West gets here you can begin to fall back, so make damn sure you have a lane." She's now approaching her command tent.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Lieutenant Shapiro, Sergeant Valentine, prepare my tank. West is approaching." The two are at full attention as she makes her way inside.

"Ma'am!" They hastily depart.

"Corporal Vega, are you ready yet?"

"Yeah, I'm still not sure this is a good idea, sis."

"Trina, we need you to do this. I know you haven't had a chance to use it before but there is no time to worry about that now. That thing could change the way we fight and even win this for us."

"I thought Beck's bombs were going to do that?"

"Those are only the beginning, we need you to clean them up afterword." She grabs an assault rifle and heads out of the tent as she answers.

"Fine, but if this thing messes up my hair I'll park it in your ass."

"You'll have to talk to Captain West about that, I think she likes my ass just the way it is." She grins at the thought of what her captain would do to the corporal at the same time as she makes her way to her waiting Abrams.

"Whatever, _Major_."

As she finishes talking to her older sister, currently located several miles behind the front, twenty silhouettes streak overhead headed toward the city. She grins as she spots the rose at the lead and then jumps up onto one of only four tanks in her attack column. The column slowly moves toward the outskirts of the enemy artillery range.

* * *

The choppers near the enemy position, anti-air begins to pepper the sky. A Huey isn't fast enough to avoid a round that rips it down the center. The rotor flies at a sparrow that pulls up just in time to have a long scar scrap the bottom of Lieutenant (Beck)'s tiny chopper. Several others meet a grim fate as the incoming fire becomes more intense.

When they reach the enemy's position six of the choppers continue onward as the remaining seven loiter to soften the fortifications for the Major's charge. One of the remaining helicopters takes a hit causing it to destabilize and head for the ground. The pilot maintains some control as he tilts the blades toward the ground,

"I'm not going alone!" He screams into the mic as he detonates the high explosives on board right above a fortified wall. The force of the explosion sends the rotor into the enemy forces, the spinning death wheel dismembers several fleeing soldiers before it impacts the ground and crushes a mech.

Captain West and her attack group continue behind the line, narrowly avoiding incoming fire. She loses two more to the thick anti-air before she finds their primary objectives; H3 fuel depot, communication center, armory, and an air field.

A retro-fitted Chanel Five News chopper now armed with twin Browning fifties and a homemade missile heads for the fuel depot. It releases its payload only to have it seemingly fail to engage, until its several feet above the street then the rocket engine roars to life and sends the projectile careening toward the depot. It follows the street un-accosted, the anti-air can't target the low flying object, then slams into the massive fuel station resulting in an enormous wave of blue fire erupting high into the sky. The News breaks off to target the air field, while its onboard audio-visual equipment relays the engagement back to a relay station for further analysis.

The second cobra heads for the com center. It takes a hit and begins to smoke, but the pilot still maintains control. The blinking fuel gauge tells her that this bird isn't retuning to base so she lets lose the main gun and begins to exhaust her arsenal as she continues toward her target, rockets and missiles streak toward various non-critical targets, hoping to soften the enemy for the final push. As she nears the target she locks onto the center and presses the stick full forward right before she leaps out onto a rooftop. The stick drops back, but the helicopter continues it's now destabilized flight into the com center. Seconds later the timer detonates the high explosives onboard, causing what was assumed to be a com center to begin a series of secondary explosions. In reality it was a base fitted with its own fuel, vehicles, and weapons stockpile.

The Rose leads the Sparrow and its payload of two 5KpxII bombs (each with the same explosive equivalent as five thousand pounds of TNT) toward the armory. The lieutenant keeps pace with the captain as she dodges enemy fire; yawling left, right and performing maneuvers that were not recommended for a helicopter. The Rose's ranged arsenal is expended cracking the final defenses before they reach the juiciest target on the mission rooster. The Sparrow soars forward to deliver its twin furies, Captain West covers its approach with the nose gun. Beck releases the bombs as he performs a one eighty. With the bombs descending he pushes the little chopper to its maximum possible velocity. The detonations shake the earth while the weapons storage facility is removed form existence.

Defending their exit with her dwindling chain-gun ammo Captain West takes point. Jade catches sight of the pilot on the rooftop and descends to scoop her up, she didn't bring a co-pilot in order to increase speed. As she's descending an enemy projectile barrels toward her, in a split second decision Beck drops his sparrow into the projected path and absorbs the hit. He saves the Rose and crew but his tiny, nearly unarmored bird is removed from the sky in a ball of hellish fire.

"Beecckkkkk!" Jade screams as the metal wreckage drops to the street below.

"Ma'am? We need to go! Ma'am!"

"I know." She breaks their current position and heads back to the front with tears streaming down her face. The News falls in behind her after exhausting its own ammo supply, of course there isn't much of a landing zone left for the enemy's flyers.

That is if any of them actually survive their engagement with the Steel Hawks, fighter pilots under the command of Colonel Sikowitz the One Day Triple Ace(he downed fifteen enemy aircraft in only one day).The Steel Hawks had been dispatched to draw off the enemy fighters so that Colonel Marlo wouldn't have to evade them as well.

* * *

The loitering helicopters have reduced much of the entry point's fortifications to ruble and corpses, at only a cost of two more birds. The retuning choppers streak past, heading back to the mobile refueling and ammo depot (MRAAD) just up the road. The others follow, they also require a reload and a refueling.

At this the Major orders her battalion forward while standing inside the portal, half of her was exposed while the other half was shielded by steel.

"Andre, initiate Delta Six." As she speaks she throws up a hand to the approaching rose. Tori can't see it but Jade nods to her, still with tears running down her face. As they fly over she notices the lack of a sparrow and knows what has occurred. Instead of showing any emotion she hardens her resolve and focuses on the fight ahead.

The battalion, mostly consisting of retro-fitted civilian vehicles (including an eighties station-wagon with a grenade launcher mount wielded to the roof and a rocket drum wielded to the side), makes its way onto the battlefield proper. All vehicles present charge in a dead run past the kill zone of the enemy's artillery.

The Major maintains a lethal calm as the shelling starts. Balls of energy arc from the city and impact the ground with rolling lightning. But still she simply remains perfectly calm. The two soldiers holding sniper rifles on the back of the tank aren't as calm, but remain silent as their commander stares onward.

_Behind the commander a specter watches onward with steely eyes and a stern face. It had been many years since he had commanded his tanks in Africa and then in Sicily but he could feel the same energy radiating off this young woman, the unmistakable aura of a tank commander charging into battle without fear. This young commander was of 'Blood 'n' Guts' and there was no denying that she could stare him down without blinking and he loved it (he even cracked a ghostly smile)._

Major Vega felt a shiver run down her spine, but didn't break her focus. This battle was too important for that now.

* * *

**AN:** If you didn't get it, the ghost is **General George S. Patton**...he won't actually do anthing in the story, he's just a point of legacy for the iron hardened tank commander.

I hope this entertained someone, because if it did then I have succeeded as a fanfiction writer. I hope you'll stick around for later chapters... :)


	2. Meet The President

**AN:** Don't worry, I'll get around to describing the battle, or at least parts of it, in a dream or three-ish…

But for right now I'd like to get more of a sub-plot or two going with a few OCs later in this chapter…

* * *

A cold sweat began to form on the fire hot flesh of the young commander sleeping in the former command center for the Derg forces in L.A. This was the second night since they had taken the city, yet she can still feel the battle in her veins. The screams of dying soldiers, the corpses littered before her, and the knowledge that one of her close friends was no longer amongst the living was all flooding her mind. She tossed and turned for hours before she could find even one hour of sleep before she had to rise and tend to the duties of her post.

A stern knocking at the door to the makeshift bedroom drew her from her doze, because it couldn't be called a slumber even in the loosest since. In basic green pants and a white tank-top she unlocks the door and allows Sergeant Valentine to enter with the day's duty roster. Lieutenant Shapiro soon followed with duty reports from the previous day.

"How are things looking today, Lieutenant?" With eyes still half closed she takes a sip of the coffee the sergeant brought for her.

"Worse than yesterday, ma'am." After casting a brief look at the duty roster she sighs before commenting,

"Wonderful, I was just thinking that I needed more on my plate."

"We keep finding small pockets of resistance in every other building. It's hindering our ability to secure the city." He maintains a firm stance as he relays one of the last things the major wants to hear this early in the morning.

"What about our reinforcements?" This is day three of their occupation and she fully expected the troops on day one, as promised.

"They're still in holding, ma'am. The general doesn't believe we have secured the city enough to risk bringing in more troops." He is surprised by the smile she gives before she speaks,

"Interesting… He wants the city secure but denies me the reinforcements that would allow me to achieve such an action. Is that irony, Lieutenant?" Her voice is cheery and she's still smiling, which makes the lieutenant extremely uncomfortable,

"I believe so, ma'am." His voice is a little shaky.

"What do you think, Sergeant?" Not breaking her thin smile she looks over to the silent soldier.

"I think he's an idiot, ma'am." Valentine's voice is flat and earnest.

"I'm not sure it's wise to insult a superior of his standing, but I agree. We need more soldiers. We lost too many taking this damn city." Her voice takes on a bit of a vile tone as she moves toward a window to observe the troops below.

"But at least we did take it, ma'am." Shapiro tries to be reassuring.

"I suppose… Where is Captain West?" As the major answers she takes notice of the Rose sitting on a temporary landing zone.

"…She… she's at the wall, ma'am." The lieutenant is hesitant to answer, partly because he understands the loss she just received, but also because he isn't comfortable with the reaction this might elicit from his CO considering the nature of her relationship with the captain.

"I understand…" She pauses to think about the fallen hero and friend who saved Captain West. But she soon regains her resolve,

"Well, let's get to it then."

"Yes, ma'am." They both answer her sharply, before they dive back into the impossible task of organizing this base. She takes a seat at her desk and begins reviewing the various reports. At least it will keep her mind occupied, for that she is grateful.

* * *

In Topeka, Kansas inside the principal's office inside a school building a man in his mid twenties sits at an aged oak desk reading the after-action report of the Third Battle of L.A. (The first was fought trying to hold the city during the initial invasion and the second was a failed attempt to retake the city a few weeks afterward.). He's glad that they finally recaptured the city. It will be a serious and more importantly long overdue boost in morale. While studying the last few hours of the fight a man of average build and height in his late forties with auburn hair enters,

"Mr. President, the Director of Western Operations wishes to speak with you." He stands at attention in front of the desk.

"Just a minute, Chambers. I'm finishing up the report now." He nods at the Presidents statement, but otherwise remains still as he responds,

"Yes, sir." After another minute of reading the President glances up,

"…You may take a seat, Cam."

"Thank you, sir." The man bows slightly before he takes a seat in the left chair in front of the desk for several minutes before,

"…Well… I'm done. Any idea what he wishes to speak to me about, exactly?" He drops the papers back down to the desk as he looks right at the man in a dark suit.

"He didn't mention any specifics, sir. But I think he's a bit agitated by Major Vega's constant requests for reinforcements." He lowers his voice as if he is revealing a secret.

"Ah, Major Vega." The younger man smiles, immediately understanding the problem. He then shakes his head,

"Well, best not keep the man waiting then. Let's go." He rises and precedes his advisor to the exit.

"Sir."

They move through the single door into the school offices secured by four armed guards and a secretary in combat gear with a shotgun sitting on her desk.

"Ms. Arles." He smiles and nods as he passes.

"Sir." She stands and salutes in response.

"Captain." He then greets the captain of his personal guard with the same warm disposition.

"Sir." He salutes then motions to the others to fall in.

Surrounded by his security force he makes his way to the office of the Director of Western Operations, located in a former history class. He goes to his subordinate, instead of the other way around, in order to give the illusion that he is making a special concession for him, plus the odds are the Director's concern can best be addressed in his own office.

The Director, a shorter man in his late forties with already thinning black hair, stands as the President enters. The guards remain at the door. The Director rising from his seat,

"Mr. President."

"Director Guyio." The president sits in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. Once he's seated the Director and Cam take their respective seats. After a moment of silence the Director realizes that he must engage the conversation,

"Sir, I need to discuss the progress of the reclamation of Los Angeles." He waits to see if the young commander-in-chief approves of this topic.

"Proceed." The President's voice takes a more commanding calm as he speaks the lone word that launches the Director's speech,

"Major Vega's progress in securing the city is taking far longer than projected estimates have indicated. We **need** to secure that city before they launch a counterattack. I recommend we relieve her of command and replace her with Colonel Grier. He has more experience in both combat and administrative command. He would expedite the operation and increase our odds of successfully securing the city, sir." After taking a deeper breath he attempts to proceed,

"Furthermore…" But he is quickly interrupted by the younger man,

"Director?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why is it taking the Major so long to secure the city?"

"Sir?" The director seems slightly confused as to the nature of the question provided.

"You said she's not moving as quickly as she needs to be, so I would like to know why that is, exactly." Feeling that he has now clearly defined what he expects he waits patiently for the director's response,

"…Uhm…well…" Unfortunately the only answer provided is undecipherable babble.

"Do **you** even know?" The loss of faith in his leader's voice spurs him to answer briskly,

"Of course! She's complaining about a lack of personnel, but if Colonel…" Again he is interrupted,

"Didn't General Leighmen send in the necessary reinforcements?" Now a dash of confusion and concern is heard in his voice. He feels that these are questions that should not have had to have been asked or at least answered very differently.

"Well, no, sir. We feared that this might be a trap to lure in our forces before they counterattacked, so we're holding them in reserve until the city can be more properly safeguarded."

"But if you don't send in the reinforcements then the city won't be protected **when** they retaliate." The President's counter point is valid, however,

"A strategy was developed by our senior staff that can take the city without extra troops." The President considers this to be the best possible way to alleviate the concern of a trap while not letting that fear neutralize a proper defense, but does reserve one concern,

"Is the Major aware of this plan?"

"No, sir. But Colonel Grier is, he helped develop it." The director's answer reveals a lot more about this situation than the director wants and his superior is going to confirm his suspicions before he takes any drastic action,

"…Interesting… Is there any evidence to confirm that the enemy has set this trap?"

"No, sir. But that doesn't mean it isn't real." Fortunately this is the confirmation the president had expected and now he relays his decision in this matter,

"True, but it also doesn't support your assumption. Send in one quarter of the reinforcements, they will allow the Major to secure the city faster. And the faster the city is secured the faster they can have it fortified. Then send in the remaining soldiers to booster the position and further increase the defenses." The President rises while speaking in a deep commanding tone,

"And if you try to manipulate any further situations for the benefit of your staff over the success of any current or future campaigns in this war I will make sure you serve the remainder of this war on the front, in Alaska. Do I make myself clear, Director?" Now fully standing he looks down at the still seated director, who swallows a lump in his throat before answering sharply,

"…Perfectly, sir."

"Good, now send the order." The president then smiles kindly and leaves.

"At once, sir." The president leaves the room. As Cam is leaving he looks back with a smile and provides a warning,

"It's not wise to bring politics into battle, Director. They won't save you from a hungry mongrel." Then he's gone, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Lieutenant Shapiro races into Major Vega's office with an important communiqué,

"Ma'am, the general is sending in some of the reinforcements." The major rises from her desk with coffee in hand,

"Some is better than none, Lieutenant." She smiles then heads out to meet these reinforcements.

* * *

**AN:** See sub-plots…

I am aware of the requirements for the office of president of the United States, one of which is an age requirement of at least 35. Part of an explanation will come in the next chapter, I promise…

**P.S. Question:** Under the Fourteenth Amendment any person born on U.S. soil is an American citizen, so…if an extraterrestrial is born in America would it be a citizen, given that it has a sentient intelligence?


	3. These Villains Be Plotin'

**AN:** This seems like a very unlikely occurrence but…eh…I need multiple 'villains' so…

* * *

In the basement of the school the Directors are seated around a small table. The Western Director begins, this is highly appropriate considering that he's the one that called this meeting,

"I don't like him." His voice bares an immediate distain for the man who had only a couple of hours earlier dismissed him almost entirely.

"No, you don't like how he operates. He doesn't play the game." The Director of Eastern Operations, a lean blonde woman in her late forties, keeps a flat emotionless tone as she both speaks and stares at the insufferable man who called this meeting to order ahead of schedule.

"Exactly, he doesn't respect the system." Western ignores her indifference as he nods in agreement to the second part of her comment.

"He's not really the president, just a temporary leader to help keep us united during this nightmare." The Director of Northern Operations, a short white haired man in his late sixties, reminds every one of the man in question's purpose.

"Any one of us could do what he does." Western scoffs at the idea that the arrogant man calling himself the president is actually necessary.

"You're right, but he didn't waste time debating over who would lead. He simply took command." Eastern almost seems to admire the man for his decisive actions and attitude…_'A politician can't win a war for survival, it'll take a general.'_

"He reunited us and reorganized our fight. Without his swift action we might not exist right now." Northern whole-heartedly agrees as he scratches his clean-shaven chin lightly.

"But now that he has stabilized things…" Western won't give up his attempt to convince the others that they must remove him now that the government is reasonably organized. But the final director, a dark haired man in his early fifties, speaks,

"No, we need to wait till he wins this war. Then we can reinstitute the old systems and have a proper election." His voice is by far more commanding than the others,

"Until then we must follow, while preparing for his graceful departure from office later on."

"And our ascent to power." Western quickly adds.

"Indeed." Southern has the final say on this matter.

* * *

"Sir, I like it when you put these politicians in their place, but is it wise to threaten them?" Cam's concern is reasonable and more than justified in a world were an assassination wouldn't be that difficult to carry out.

"They need to know that I have no intention whatsoever of creating any kind of political clout or garnishing favor with any of them. I'm here to win a war and save a people, nothing more." The younger man keeps his conviction as he takes his seat behind his desk.

"Some would call that a tall order, sir." Cam takes a seat on the small sofa against the wall to the president's left.

"And I call it serving these people, who have lost so much yet still hold onto hope. It truly is an inspiration." He rotates his chair to look out the window and stare at the slightly battered flag flying just outside.

* * *

"And what of this Major Vega?" Southern seeks further data on the second point that Western wished to discuss.

"She's only nineteen, yet is given a field command. It's ludicrous." Western throws up his hand as he speaks with disgust for such an action.

"It is a bit extreme, is there any reason why she has this post?" Northern wants actual hard evidence as to why she has such a post, not accepting her age as enough considering this war.

"She served in the California Militia after the first assaults. Only three weeks, then she was sent for Hell Training, like everyone else." Eastern begins reciting facts from her dossier from memory; she had wanted her to take part in the eastern offensive campaigns, but she was snatched away by Colonel Marlo and the president. She resumes her reciting,

"But she only spent two weeks in the program before she was shipped to Tulsa. And she **was** in the Arizona program."

"Arizona? Those bastards are the best we've got. Not everyone survives the training if I recall." Northern seems impressed by her just on that fact alone.

"Correct, the instructor pushes them harder than at any of the other facilities. But he gets results." Southern remembers not particularly liking the man, but then again not disagreeing with his methodology.

"So she's tough." Western speaks sarcastically not fully acknowledging that training program as anything special.

"And a charismatic leader, during the Dallas offensive she rallied scattered forces to aid in covering the retreat. Then again during that debacle of a retreat from Houston, if it wasn't for her we would have lost a lot more soldiers and ground than we did." Southern suddenly remembers seeing these facts in his after-action reports as Eastern continues to relay the major's impressive record,

"Of course that's nothing to her taking over the defense of Fort Worth after the general was killed and his ranking staff were classified as MIA. She held for seven days against a force twenty times their size, only retreating when a carrier was inbound." She still can't believe one so young could accomplish so much.

"A few of the veteran soldiers say there's this aura to her, like she's haunted by a ghost of war." Northern isn't a superstitious man, but has seen a similar aura before in certain soldiers.

"Nonsense, this is not the time to discuss superstition. We need hard facts." Western is all too eager to bite at him for his seemingly pointless statement.

"Once she was transferred back out west she lead a few opts in tangent with northern forces with great success." Eastern's statement is confirmed by Northern nodding.

"It would seem that under further review Major Vega is a far more competent officer than you gave her credit for." Southern's eyes are fixed on Western as he speaks.

"I advise we not be so quick to question the president's choices in command officials." Eastern is rarely impressed by anyone, but this girl has certainly impressed her.

"Agreed, we'll allow him to handle the war. It's what he's good at, we'll take care of the domestic issues." Southern stands as he continues,

"All in favor?"

"Aye." Northern and Eastern as well as Southern are in agreement. Seeing that he's out numbered Western agrees as well,

"Aye." Though his is filled with bile and disgust.

"Then it is unanimous that we will not seek to alter the president's battle strategy without overwhelming cause." Southern's commanding voice is only intensified by his stature and hard eyes.

* * *

Standing at the makeshift memorial wall just outside the HQ Captain West stares at a single name scratched into a plate of steel. Major Vega approaches her from behind making sure to allow her boots to create subtle noises as not to startle her when she asks,

"How are you holding up, Captain?" She takes up position on Jade's right.

"I am, ma'am. It's not easy losing your best friend." She has a slight tremor as she speaks and her eyes are still a little puffy. Tori opens her mouth to speak then pauses, reconsidering her choice in words,

"…Jade, I'm not going to hand you the standard platitudes, because he was my friend too. And I feel like shit, so I can't even imagine how you feel." She places her hand on her shoulder and squeezes lightly as she looks over at her. Jade breaks her stare at the name and brings her eyes over to meet Tori's,

"You're lack of sleep would disagree with you, ma'am-Tori. I can see it in your eyes. The pain, it's obvious. It's the same after…" Her voice begins to fade as she looks down, remembering that she only lost her best friend…while Tori lost both her parents in one night. Tori drops her hand and begins to rub the back of her head with her opposite hand as,

"Yeah, I haven't been sleeping much… and yes it's exactly like back then." Her voice drops in volume as it takes a much graver tone despite her efforts not to. Jade castes a look back up at the wall,

"Except now you have the fate of hundreds of soldiers in your hands." She lets her eyes ghost over multiple casualties. Tori looks at the wall, not at any one name in particular or even one at all just the wall itself and the meaning of the sum total of sacrifices made,

"It certainly isn't making it easier, but it's my cross to bear." Jade brings her eyes back around to Tori,

"You don't have to bear it alone, Tori. I'm here for you." She places her hand on Tori's shoulder and gently turns her so that they are more-or-less facing each other. Tori shakes her head,

"That really doesn't help, especially when I have to send you into battle knowing full well that there is a good chance you won't return."

"Would you rather be worrying about me fighting in some other state, not knowing for hours whether or not I'm alive?" Jade's voice is filled with conviction as she herself couldn't stand the thought of not knowing Tori's fate for that long.

"No, but…" She tries to continue but is swiftly cut off,

"At least we get to be together here." Jade has taken Tori's hands in her own and begins gently caressing her knuckles with her thumbs. Tori smiles, surrendering,

"I really wish I could have fallen in love with you before all this." Jade smiles back,

"Me too, Tori. Me too." She leans in and kisses her gently before turning to face the makeshift memorial wall and then placing her head on Tori's shoulder. Tori wraps her arm around Jade's back and rests her hand on her opposite shoulder, then rests her head on Jade's while smiling weakly. They stare at the wall in silence as the moon beams down on them.

* * *

**AN:** This was a little shorter than I'm used to writing, but I thought this last scene was a great way to end the chapter and just couldn't think of anything that would top it, so I hope you enjoyed.

And fighting will return in the next chapter...


	4. Just Another Notch On My Gun

**AN:** Sorry about the wait, I'm currently working on about seven stories right now, and that isn't including the ones in my head I have yet to jot down… But I shall continue to write this story, though again the posts will each take a while…

Now enjoy the taste of a battle…well, a pre-battle.

* * *

The smell of blood and charred flesh drenched the area as Tori surveyed the destroyed remains of the Sparrow that had saved the Rose. Beck's remains had already been recovered and buried; Jade had delivered the memorial speech herself. Tori had dozens of other casualties to deliver speeches for, but none of them had the same impact as the words spoken about the lieutenant by her dear captain.

She is drawn from her thoughts as a slightly older female lieutenant with short golden hair approaches,

"Major? Major?" Tori leaps down from the small pile of rubble to meet the officer,

"…Yes, Lieutenant." The lieutenant stands at attention before continuing,

"We need to keep moving, ma'am. Captain Harris needs your immediate attention."

"Of course, let's move." The Major nods and follows the officer near the outskirts of the secured sector of the city.

* * *

The Major approaches the waiting team of soldiers very casually, rather enjoying the temporary distraction,

"Andre, what's so urgent that I have to come out here myself?" He smiles,

"Well, to be honest Tori I figured that you would want to be the one to recapture Hollywood Arts." Then motions to the hauntingly familiar building standing before them. A few of the ghosts of memories past steal her steel and softens her voice considerably,

"…I wasn't there as long as you, Andre."

"Regardless, I thought you'd like the honor all the same." He pats her arm as he smiles.

"Are there any mongrels in there?" Recovering her iron she motion to the building. He turns to face it as well,

"Couple of scouts saw a few heading in, but haven't seen anything since."

"Rifle." At the order a sergeant surrenders the extra assault rifle he had been carrying,

"Ma'am." He also provides to clips and grenade, when he notices her lack of ordinance as well. The extra gift garners a smile,

"Thanks. Well, let's clear 'em out then." She begins walking toward her former school.

"Yes, ma'am." Andre is the first to follow, then the others.

The major takes point and leads the unit of seven into the mostly undamaged building. With the flashlight at the end of her gun illuminating the dust and light debris of a few fallen tiles she moves slowly and carefully as not to unnecessarily alert any mongrels to their presence.

Having cleared the entrance she steps over to her locker still adorning 'Make It Shine'…her brief period of nostalgia is cut short as she turns and drops to one knee while bringing her rifle to bear on the mongrel who tried to sneak up on the lieutenant. After three bursts to the chest he drops to the ground bleeding a sickly green. The lieutenant fires a single shot in its head as per protocol, before turning back to the major,

"Thanks, ma'am."

"Let's move we're too exposed and we're about to have company." As she finishes she's already moving down the hall toward the Blackbox. It may not be the world's best defensible position but it does have a catwalk and more than enough crap for a barricade.

As they take up position outside the door the major nods to Andre before she speaks,

"Breaching." Then he turns the knob and she slams the door with her shoulder as she drops forward to one knee and raising her rifle in one fluid motion. Andre is right behind her with his shotgun floating just above her head. They swiftly survey the room before he lifts his gun and she begins to rise,

"Clear." She motions forward with two fingers and the others file into the room past her and Andre. Andre then follows them in leaving her to take one last look down the hall. Narrowing her vision she slowly traces every scrap of debris…then turns and enters the room, closing the door behind her.

"Commander, take two and clear the costume room… Then bring me the mannequins and a few costumes."

"Yes, ma'am." Andre nods as he motions with his free to a private and a sergeant.

"Sergeant. Private." Another two soldiers move over in front of her at attention,

"Ma'am."

"I need a makeshift barrier half-way from the door to the stage." She guides her hand across the general area in which she wants the barricade.

"On it, ma'am." They answer in unison before heading off to gather up chairs, tables, and anything else they could find in the storage closet.

"Lieutenant, take the corporal and secure the catwalk."

"Yes, ma'am." Turning to the last soldier left the major directs her final order,

"Private, keep both eyes on that door." She points sternly at the intended choke point.

"Yes, ma'am." He moves just to the left of the door with his weapon raised.

Prior to the Lieutenant reaching the catwalk a mongrel that had been hiding there leaps down at the one who was obviously leading these soldiers. Tori is knocked backward to the ground as the Jackal (five foot tall dog-man with a thin lanky body, which was fairly light) lands on top of her. She maintains her situational awareness and easily brings up her right arm to block its attempt to stab her. The sharp boney forearm of the jackal makes her wince as it hits her own forearm, but that is far preferable to the glowing dagger a few inches from her chest.

It snarls at her with its elongated maul before trying to bite at her… but she punches it in the side with her free hand. It winces and releases the pressure on its dagger arm, which allows her the opportunity to punch it in the side of its head near the eye with her right fist. Almost in the same motion she draws her knife from its sheath on the chest of her vest. Still reeling from the impact to its face it has no time to react as Tori drives the blade into the bottom of its skull. In one fluid action she rolls the alien to her left and forces it onto its back, completely reversing their positions. Now she pulls the knife from under its head and stabs it into its forehead. With the mongrel lying there completely lifeless she throws her head back and releases a deep breathe.

Leaning forward she pulls her knife free then cleans it on the jackal's grey uniform. As she rises she snatches the jackal's dagger. Sheathing her knife she begins to turn to alien dagger in her hand. The nine inch slightly curved dagger is nearly paper thin and barely weighs anything. Then she finds and activates the control for the projected energy blade. Two inches of glowing energy hums around the metal blade. She smiles before releasing the control and letting it grow cold once again.

Now she looks around to see that her soldiers didn't break position to assist her,

"Not even an 'are you okay, ma'am?'?" She smirks, but is glad they kept their wits and were prepared to engage any others instead of foolishly trying to help her.

"Sorry, ma'am. Are you okay?" The private guarding the door doesn't break his focus on the door, fully expecting one to come through at any moment.

"Yes, Private. I unlike this bastard am completely fine." She to the corpse with her new dagger.

"Good to hear, ma'am." He nods maintaining his concentration.

* * *

A few minutes later Commander Harris returns with a mannequin under his arm, followed by the other two each holding one as well. After setting the doll down he motions to the alien dagger held at her side by her belt,

"And how many does that make?" She looks down at the blade and shrugs,

"I lost count in Washington." Not thinking of the implications of mentioning her time up north she regrets her comment immediately. But it was too late as Andre's flattened,

"How is the Captain anyway?"

"West? Or…" She sighs before providing the entire reason she hated mentioning Washington,

"Shay?"

"Either, both." He isn't trying to force the answer he's looking for, only encourage it.

"Jade's handling it as best she can. And as for Carly, well…last I heard she was running the fifth Striker brigade." She smiles thinly, hoping that he will stop this inquisition. The strikers were designated as a covert ops unit, tasked with precision surgical strikes on key targets behind enemy lines.

"And you?" He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on her eyes.

"Fighting is nothing, just par for the course anymore." Tori shrugs off any emotional attachment to having to kill countless enemy invaders.

"And that doesn't concern you?" Andre is growing worried about his friend's hardening soul and fears what will happen to her after they win this war, what exactly does a killer of her level do after the war is over.

"Should it?" She looks at him as if wanted these bastards to live. He shakes his head,

"I have my answer then." However the major isn't going to get away from his actual question that easily,

"But when I was asking about Captain Shay…"

"I know." She looks down as she knows exactly what he was asking.

"Did you tell her?" Despite not looking him in the eyes she can feel his gaze intensifying. Feeling a lot weaker than she should the answer barely comes,

"No."

"Coward." He knows that calling her out is the fastest way to get her to talk more fluidly. And she does bring her eyes up to meet his,

"How exactly do you tell someone that saved your life no fewer than six times that she was just a convenience screw?" Her tone is harsh, but her eyes are pleading for an answer. He lightly shakes his head,

"It wouldn't be so hard if you had told her that up front."

"Hindsight." She sneers. Any other soldier would have stopped there, but Andre was far from just any other soldier and he has no problem reminding her of that,

"Doesn't change the fact that you should tell her." She sighs,

"I will…eventually… Besides what's so wrong with her thinking it's something more, she could die at any moment? Isn't better she thinks she's fighting for someone?" She gets defensive and somewhat pleading.

"If said someone actually cared for her, then yes." He has no intention of surrendering to her beseeching logic. Especially as he begins to draw out things that she should have already talked about,

"I care…just not that way." He smiles,

"Then tell her you want to be friends." She frowns,

"This really isn't the time for this." His smile widens,

"You know that you think your clearest after a fight, so if not now when?" He knows full well that he has her, but knows that he might want to slack up before she shuts him down.

"If we survive this war." And her solemn tone is the signal to cease his assault, so he simply adds a little more optimism,

"You mean when." Then looks over at the mannequin and changes the subject,

"Anyway, what exactly were you thinking with these mannequins?"

"Bait." She lets the word slide out like she is planning on actually cooking the bastards up afterward.

"Always the master of complicated battle-plans." He chuckles lightly.

"Complicated plans have more variables that could result in failure; the simplest plans are almost always the most effective." Having fully returned to her combat ready self she begins figuring the best possible locations for the dolls.

"And now you're back, Major." He straightens his stance a bit, knowing that share time is over and now the major is ready to get back to what she does best… killing mongrels.

"Prepare for company. It shouldn't be long." At her words every soldier present looks to the door and does not still constructing the barrier grip their weapons tighter.

* * *

**AN:** I honestly have no idea where the whole include Carly thing came from, it just felt right for whatever reason…not going to make it a big deal, but it does provide some personal demons for the heroine…

I guess I should add this:

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own ICarly, or…Big Time Rush**… (just to be safe. Not that I plan on using them, but you never know…I may have to turn this into a cross-over if the story progresses too far, but then again technically the Victorious and ICarly universes are one in the same so it shouldn't require the cross-over status…right?)

* * *

Now** ignore** the following unless you like mindless chatter:

Interesting, this could actually be a Syfy channel movie, albeit minus the Victorious angle, I mean we have aliens, a big war, a romance, and now we have personal issues, perfect B-movie filler, oh, I almost forgot a conniving politician willing to sacrifice us all for power and a mysterious president. B-movie Gold. Think about it.


	5. Last Stand at the Blackbox

**AN:** It's been awhile, sorry about that. There is no excuse but I have an explanation, I was busy with my flagship story 'Dread Moon'.

So let's see: Tori and Andre (he's officially a Captain, but he's also a unit/battalion commander…so if I use the terms interchangeably that's why.) were inside the Blackbox, preparing for an attack…

* * *

The Blackbox was ready and waiting for the rest of the pack to attack, the lieutenant and her soldier were on the catwalk providing excellent crossfire potential. The mannequins would provide a split second distraction allowing for the enemy to loose numbers without sacrificing her own. The major was rather pleased with the battle plan,

"Now we just have to wait till they actually attack." The captain grins then shouts,

"Oh, God! No, you bastard leave me alone….Nooooo!" The major chuckles a bit,

"Nice…that should do it." The major grins as she castes her arm in the air. The soldiers train their guns on the door as they take up positions.

_9Dread9_

The door flies open as five Jackals swarm through the breeched timber. Two are slammed with fire from all angles almost instantly. Their armor fails to hold off the barrage and they fall over into piles of bleeding flesh without getting a single shot off.

The others push past them and leap at the mannequins, only to discover that they were indeed not humans. Two of them are bombarded with too many rounds before they can leap away from the false humans. The last rolls aside and pounces on the private, ripping out his throat as he fires to the ceiling. The Major slams it in the head with the butte of her rifle before twisting the gun around and jabbing the bayonet into its face, turning it slowly. Harris quickly rushes over and places his hands over the gushing wound of the fallen soldier… but it's far too late already, the blood loss is too much and…he's gone…

"Next wave!" As the major barks Captain Harris is back on his feet, awaiting the next assault.

In only a few minutes another group bursts through the open door, but not before releasing a few flash grenades. Hunkering down behind the barricade the troops try to clear their vision as they blind fire over the blockade.

One of the stray rounds does nail a jackal in its face but the random spray of fire doesn't do much more damage as the jackals breach the opening. As they begin filling the room with fire they catch one of the privates in the chest and a sergeant in the shoulder, but she keeps firing with her other arm. The major tosses her only grenade at the doorway. The explosion takes out several as they try to pour into the room. There's a moment of relief.

"Fall Back!" As the major orders the remaining soldiers use the cover provided by the grenade and that of the lieutenant and private on the catwalk to get into the backroom.

The other sergeant is cut down as he nears the door…his body unintentionally provided a shield for the Captain who had been in the sights for those rounds. The major and captain take up positions on either side of the door and provide cover allowing the lieutenant to fall back into the storage room as well. Unfortunately, the lieutenant takes a hit in her right calf and falls short of the door.

Without a moment's hesitation the major leaps out from cover and drags her to the door, firing the entire time. Once her back is against the wall inside the room she looks down to the officer,

"You gonna' make it, Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" As she fires through the doorway at a random jackal she now vents her frustrations on.

"Now what?" Her answer is to present a pin from a grenade. The captain feverishly searches for his only grenade…only to find it missing. The major looks over to the dead jackal that killed the private in the first wave and grins,

"This…" as she shoots the corpse causing it to move enough for the grenade to pop out and then only a second later to detonate. However this explosion is significantly more destructive as it engulfs the room. The major had just barely had time to close the storage room door when the wave of heat swallowed it.

As the explosion fades and the air begins to cool the captain looks over to the major,

"I can't believe you did that."

"We were outnumber and had basically nowhere to go, what else was I supposed to do?" Tori smirks as she opens the door. Looking back into the room she motions to the corporal,

"Corporal, bandage 'em up." Even as he's answering he's moving to help the wounded,

"Yes, ma'am." As he answers she leaves the storage closet for the carnage inside the theater. Most of the jackals were cooked beyond recognition by the blast that had thrown them into the walls. The major and captain swiftly begin salvaging any tech they can, leaving the only surviving private to cover them.

"Ma'am?" The lone guard nervously asks.

"Yes, private." Grinning the major knows exactly what he's about to ask as she removes a dagger from one of the corpses.

"What was that?" The private looks around at the destruction. She stands and walks over to him, showing him her charge-less battle trophy,

"I took the charge pack from the dagger, cracked it, and quick-glued it to the grenade." Quick-gluing had become a jargon referring to using a new type of superglue, developed from some alien tech, to make both IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices) and MEDs (Modified Explosive Devices) in no time at all. However the practice is frowned upon by the higher-ups because it encouraged reckless behavior in less…tactical or intelligent troops who really had no idea what they are doing.

"Risky as hell, considering the thing could've killed her once she cracked it…but it does prove to be a pretty effective way of dialing up the destructive force on our explosives." The captain shakes his head at how ridiculously powerful their grenades become.

"But you are ordered not to attempt such an action unless ordered to do so or in a situation in which you're basically already dead anyway." The major looks him dead in the eye with an iron stare. But he just smirks,

"So Tuesdays, ma'am?" And Tori busts out laughing.

_9Dread9_

Finishing up the basic salvage Andre looks at the thirty four dead jackals,

"I could have sworn the reports said only a couple were spotted entering."

"When do mongrels ever operate in pairs?" Tori pats him on the back.

"…never. And now I regret this endeavor." He had no intention of this being a real battle he only wanted a few kills that would allow him to talk to the major in her environment. But the same of his mistake forces him to drop his head.

"It needed to be secured either way, at least this way Robbie has to file the reports without me." She knows that'll get him going.

"They still require your signature." He state flatly as he turns away from the corpses along the wall.

"He's good at forging it." Tori smirks.

"As an officer I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." He shakes his head lightly. She begins to chuckle,

"I'll have to review them anyway…" Then turns her attention to the wounded,

"How are they lookin', Corporal?" Before he can answer the lieutenant interjects,

"We're fine, ma'am." The sergeant nods in agreement. Tori counters with her own sharp nod,

"Good. Lieutenant, Sergeant, Private, get back to HQ and call in a salvage crew and organize a burial detail." They all stand at attention,

"Yes, ma'am." And begin hobbling out of the room, with the corporal taking point and the sergeant assisting the lieutenant.

* * *

Several miles away inside a secure military post built inside of a mountain Corporal Vega and Lieutenant Macros are eating at the small cafeteria for only the fourth time since they started working together nearly six months ago.

"Any news on the upgrades?" Trina looks up at the lieutenant, who was stating at his rehydrated…meatloaf, maybe. He shakes his head when he feels her eyes on him,

"Sorry, ma'am."

"You know you out rank me, Lieutenant?" She smirks before she takes another bite of her Salisbury steak.

"But I can't operate the SCRWA." (Synaptic Controlled Remote Weapons Array) A special project utilizing Trina's unique brain-wave activity to command the control signal used by the jackal's mechs. Of course the mechs had to be modified to prevent jackals from retaking control, but that was relatively easy once they were captured…which wasn't the easy part. The entire facility had been overhauled for her to control these powerful military assets.

"Yet, you're still an officer who outranks me." She smiles more sweetly. His face reddens a bit as he nervously proceeds,

"Sorry, it's just that you control dozens of mechs with your mind. That deserves a little respect." She nods,

"Respect, yes. Disrespecting the chain of command, no." Then waves her fork back and forth slowly.

"I never figured you for the 'rank and file', 'serve or fry' type." He relaxes a little figuring that they do have a bit more in common than he previously thought. She takes a more serious tone as she leans forward a little,

"My little sister is an officer, and she's done a shit load of good, so I figure officers should be treated as officers." She then smiles with pride for her little sister. He starts nodding, having heard all about the fiercer Vega,

"Major Vega, the Devil Dyke of…" But he is cut off by a tray being thrown at his face.

"Owhh, What the fuck was that for?" Holding his bleeding nose he stares at her. She returns the stare with a flat and calm tone,

"Major Vega is both a superior officer and my little sister, and you will show her the proper respect she deserves. And if you ever call her that again…the targeting software might accidentally misfire during the next training session." Then she adds a wicked smirk that silences the young officer as his eyes go wide.

The other soldiers and scientists simply continued eating without as much as casting a glance at the corporal, fearing her wrath. They didn't dare a glance until she had left the cafeteria, then they looked over to the lieutenant while shaking their heads in disapproval. He departs soon after for the infirmary.

_9Dread9_

"What the hell was that about?" An older man catches up to her.

"That was an officer being an ass…and getting feedback about it." Looking up to the man she smiles as she continues walking toward the research labs.

"Anything I should know, Corporal?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Nothing, sir." She dismisses the incident as nowhere near important enough to bother the colonel. But he smiles slyly,

"How is the Major by the way?" Trina chuckles lightly,

"Success seems to follow her…and Death as well." Then sighs.

"Lieutenant Oliver?"

"Yes, sir." Her tone drops a bit lower

"Well, death follows all of us around these days…but I understand the loss." He had lost all but his nephew…out of a family of thirty, so he definitely got it.

"We all do these days, sir." Her stride had slowed down with her dropping tone and head, as she starts to think about her parents.

"Unfortunately." He pats her on the shoulder and guides her to her destination.

* * *

Back in Kansas the president is scrambling to find a file,

"Cam, do you have the after-action report on that opt in eastern Alaska?" His head is currently under his desk as he inquires. Cam closes the file he was just finishing,

"Yes, sir. Here you go." And places it atop the desk. The president re-emerges and takes the file in hand,

"Thanks, Cam. Anything good?"

"Captain Shay did a number on their facilities, sir. I doubt they'll be mining ore any time soon." The older man cracks a smile. The president nods,

"Good, send her the leave she requested two months ago." As he sets the file aside to review another, he trusted his aid irrefutably, so that file was no longer a priority.

"Yes, sir… May I ask how you can remember such trivial pieces of data so easily?" Cam had seen him remember other almost seemingly irrelevant details as if he had just heard them, despite it having been months since they were discussed.

"I have a mind for the little things…terrible at faces, but personal requests are easy." He smiles as he begins skimming a report from operations in northern New York.

"Alright, sir. I'll take care of it." Cam rises and leaves the room with his standard brisk pace, something the president himself didn't like trying to match.

* * *

Several hundred miles above the surface of Earth the Derg flagship sits in orbit.

"Is it ready yet?" An older taller derg wearing decorative purple armor inquires.

"Yes, Supremacy. The Vala'al will doom these apes." A shorter younger derg wearing silver combat armor answers confidently.

"That's what you said about the initial invasion, Siarch." Supremacy sneers at Siarch with his fangs bared.

"They are broken and scurrying about like poiluy, sire." Siarch answers nervously rubbing his hands. A flare of anger graces Supremacy's golden eyes,

"Broken poiluy don't take out carriers, Siarch. Broken poiluy don't dismantle mining facilities and doom the war effort. You need to reign in these humans so that we can defeat the Joilpa or we'll all be doomed to extinction." He slams his three fingered fist into the console before him, sending an echo of the impact throughout the room. The guards at the door stand a little straighter as it does.

"This one planet will not decide the fate of the war, sire." Still cowering from the impact the younger tries to regain some of his standing with the elder. But the anger does not subside, if anything it grows in intensity,

"The reason we are even on this planet is because of how close we are to defeat. Now since you think they are animals to be slain, I suggest you do it." He storms out of the room after denting the wall with his fist.

"Yes, Supremacy." Siarch drops to a knee as he watches his lord leave. Once Supremacy is further away and Siarch is alone he storms about…careful to keep his concerns inside his head, _'Foolish old man, how dare he doubt my plans! I am the Siarch, I'm the second in command. With the Primarch gone I should be the one in charge of this entire operation. I certainly don't need the Supremacy here judging every move I make.'_

* * *

**AN:** Wild. Any comments, then you know what to do…

Siarch, Primarch, and Supremacy are titles, but are also names until they leave that post.

Derg = Jackal, remember.

Joilpa = another alien race currently at war with the Derg

poiluy = space rats, or more accurately a rat like creature from the derg homeworld

-May Dread watch over you-


	6. Two Hearts, One Love

**AN**: The action slows as I build on the Jori…

And the plot with the Derg thickens ever so slightly…

* * *

Hidden deep inside the forests of Alberta inside of a small mountain, Derg forces were busy analyzing various data streams and duplicated reports from the fleet. At the central camber a middle-aged Derg wearing simple grey combat armor receives a heavily encrypted transmission,

"Primarch, I have word that the Vala'al is ready." The blurred visage on the screen bore a familiar voice.

"Thank you, Supremacy. I shall prepare for its deployment." Primarch nods to an assistant to relay the intel provided. Supremacy shifts to a much more dire concern,

"Have you made any progress in finding the traitors?"

"No, sir, I have yet to uncover a full list of all those involved in this conspiracy…" His tone is already miserable, but he has to continue with more bad news,

"Also I fear there is little chance of salvaging our relationship with the humans without endangering the war effort in most of the other theaters, sir."

"That is a shame, they could've proven incredibly useful in the fight." Supremacy grits his teeth.

"…There may be a way, if I can uncover the traitors." But Primarch has yet to give up hope for some type of peace.

"Then hurry up. I'll try to delay Siarch's more ruthless operations."

"Thank you, sir…" He hates to keep the Supremacy, in fear that they be discovered, but he must make this last report,

"There is also word that there might be a dread here amongst the humans." Little is known of the dread, except that the few military powers that faced them no longer exist. They have built a reputation as a mysterious army of faceless warriors that can hide amongst the populous of any species due to their rumored shape-shifting abilities.

Supremacy considers the information carefully before relaying his orders,

"…Do not waste the time or energy trying to find it…if the dread wished to help us win this war they would have already done so." This mysterious force never engaged in offensive warfare only defensive, to protect their own territory.

"I doubt we're the ones he's interested in, sir." The Primarh doesn't feel that the 'shifter' hiding amongst the humans is ideal for the Derg, especially if it wishes to aid the humans.

"Dread rarely leave their tiny sector of the galaxy, and they have yet to take any aggressive action against anyone who leaves them be…so we shall do just that. It's probably just here to observe the humans for their archives. Just hurry along with your search and your plans, Primarch." Supremacy dismisses the dread as a threat or player in this or any other war that does not come knocking at their door. So, the Primarch puts it out of his head to focus on the task at hand,

"Yes, Supremacy."

* * *

Several dozen miles away across the border at a communication research facility that was employed to intercept any alien messages finally gets the right frequency. A gruff CO looks over to the technically officer,

"Did you get the message?"

"Yeah, we intercepted it…but translating it is another story. And it's probably encrypted out the ass." The younger officer sighs.

"Regardless, we can now at least listen in…maybe even track the signal and find a few jackal nests." The CO grins.

"I seriously doubt we will have much success in finding them, translating the message, or anywhere near deciphering it, but progress is progress, sir." The younger officer half-heartily smiles as he turns toward the cot beside the equipment.

"Yes, it is, Commander." The CO exists the room with several copies of the message to be sent to other facilities for translating, if they ever can be.

* * *

Three days after she cleared out Hollywood Arts Major Vega found herself inside her private cambers resting on one arm in her bed as she stares at the bare body of her paramour, partially illuminated by the waning moon. She shifts her weight slightly, causing Jade to stir,

"What's wrong, ma'am?" Turning over and leaning on her own arm she fears that some duty is calling Tori away from her. But Tori doesn't leave, she simply smiles,

"Nothing, beautiful. Just admiring you in the soft moonlight." She reaches over with her hand and gently brushes Jade's pale cheek with the back of her fingers. Moving her digits higher she moves a few strands of the ebony hair back behind her ear, now no longer obscuring Tori's view of Jade's eyes.

Once Tori pulls her hand back Jade chuckles lightly,

"You're such a chick sometimes." Tori grins,

"Says the one with near prefect breasts." As she motions to the large mounds protruding from the sheets. Jade raises an eyebrow,

"Near perfect?" Tori shrugs,

"Well, the left one is a little larger and the right nipple is just a wee bit smaller than its left counterpart." As she points to them Jade sneers,

"I don't find it attractive when you get technical." Tori smirks,

"The status of your aforementioned nipples would disagree." Pointing to the hardened buds sitting atop the pale flesh. Jade brings her free arm across them,

"It's cold in here." Tori's smirk widens,

"Then maybe I should warm you up." Before she leaps over on top of Jade, rolling her onto her back and pinning her to the bed as she begins to…

Several hours later as Tori has finally yielded to sleep she receives a flash of memory from the battle for the city nearly a week eariler,

'_Dirt and debris from multiple rounds of enemy artillery slamming the ground rained down as the attack group charged toward the city. The plasma charges impacting the ground released arcs of lightning that ripped through more than a few of the attack vehicles. _

_A charred limb fell right in front of Major Vega. Unblinking she tossed the limb to the ground and ordered Lieutenant Shapiro to increase speed. He wasn't comfortable pushing the tank to its very limits but he would never refuse an order from the major when she was in battle. He redlines the engine as they roll ahead of most of the battle group, which was getting bogged down avoiding the abandoned vehicles on the main road and the terrain beside it._

_After losing roughly a fifth of her attack group to mines, and enemy artillery they hit the broken barricade that the chopper attack group had formally devastated. Of course the jackals sent some reinforcements to replenish the diminished defenses, but nowhere near enough to hold off the invading humans, who wanted their city back._

_1__st__ Lieutenant Shapiro decelerates as they near the barricade, Staff Sergeant Valentine prepares the main gun. The major slams a boot into the interior of the Abrams, Valentine grins, _

"_Firing!" Then she unleashes the round on the barricade, sending multiple jackals flying as it explodes. As the tank jerks the major keeps her calm as she motions for the two snipers on back of the tank to prepare. These soldiers dressed all in black were part of the Montana Irregulars, originally a paramilitary militia of sharpshooters that quickly joined the main body military after realizing that the 'life' part of their freedoms were at risk. _

_They were on approach almost at the wall…'_

"_Tori_. Tori. Tori!" Jade shakes Tori's arm. She soon awakens,

"What's wrong?" Fearing an attack she bolts to a sitting position.

"You-you were doing it again." Jade joins her, but pulls her knees to her chest as she looks down. Relaxing Tori looks down as well,

"Sorry, they come and go."

"I know…this isn't my first time waking up because of your flashbacks of battle." Looking over at her she rubs Tori's shoulder in a gentle circular pattern as she drops her legs to a more comfortable sitting position.

"You'd expect these to only happen after the war is over." Tori keeps her head down as she brings a hand to her forehead.

Jade puts her hand under Tori's chin and raises her head so that their eyes can meet,

"You're putting an immeasurable strain on your mind, you went from carefree teenage vocal prodigy to battle-harden war hero. Not an easy transition to say the least. You'll need a lot of therapy after this is over…and I plan on making damn sure you get it." She smiles at her and she smiles back,

"I'm the troubled one and you're still the crazy one for staying with me."

"As long as I get the 'staying with you' part, then I can deal with being called crazy." Jade's smile deepens as she strokes Tori's chin with her thumb.

"You're too good for me." Tori looks away. Jade nods,

"I know, doesn't mean I won't stick with you till the end." Slightly repositioning Tori casts her eyes back to Jade's as she takes her hand in her own,

"I-I love you, Jade." Her eyes translate her very soul as every single ounce of her being is screaming that this is not some fantasy created by the war, it's a real connection that she has to voice. Jade doesn't hesitate to consider her heart, she already knows it,

"And I love you, Tori." They remain there in the comfortable silence, simply staring into each other's eyes…until reality forces them to rise and attend their duties.

* * *

Back in Kansas:

"Mr. President, we have a report on the Delaware opt." Cam rapidly enters the office with a file in his hand.

"Anything good?" The president looks up from his usually min-mountain of memorandums and reports…not to mention battle plans. Cam shakes his head,

"No, sir. They've lost two battalions…and all of their armor." He didn't wish to diminish the loss of the soldier by grouping it in with the vehicles, but tanks are valuable assets…especially since they are hard to come by in this era. The president looks down at the various stacks of paperwork before him as he considers the best possible next move…then he looks up,

"…Abandon the sector. Send in the Detroit Clowns. Then keep running tabs using Strikers." Detroit Clowns (Juggalos)…were inspired by the infamous ICP. They used hatchets as primary weapons and high explosives as a close second, specializing in the scorched earth policy, leaving as little alive or standing as physically possible. Truly a bunch of hard-core psychos with painted faces.

Cam nods sharply,

"Yes, sir. The Eastern Director purposed the same plan, sir."

"I'm sure General Defoe made it a very convincing plan for her." The president smiles wryly. Cam chuckles lightly,

"…I shall relay your approval, sir." The president nods,

"Alright Cam." But slyly adds,

"And tell the Director to keep her com off whenever she has private matters to attend. The last thing I need is to hear her voicing her enthusiasm…" He then begins snickering.

"I shall try to slip that in…sir." Cam slightly regretting his word choice moves out of the room before he says anything else regrettable.

* * *

_**Two weeks ago:**_

Captain Shay had received her orders and was bound for Alaska but she had to stop off at Settle's Camp Storm to visit the memorial…and remember the fallen. So many died in the first waves all across the world, but it doesn't really hit home until they're bombarding and then storming your city. Her friends made it out…most of them anyway, Spencer and Gibby provided a distraction that allowed them to get away. No one has seen any sign of them, there were no bodies or witnesses that they were actually killed…but it's been a year and she's fairly certain that they paid for her escape with their very lives.

She gently rubs the monument, a simple boulder with the space needle carved into it…flowers and other trinkets were left before it by the survivors, many were undisturbed from being placed there months ago. A few tears escape her eyes as she thinks about them…then smiles at a few good memories.

But before the memories envelop her she moves off, she needs to regain her focus if she wants to succeed in her mission. Afterwards she can visit a few friends and bawl like a baby if she needs to, and since she's finally accepting that her brother and weirdest friend are gone…she's going to cry like a newborn.

* * *

**AN:** Opinions? Questions?

Sorry, to those of you expecting more 'bang' for your read. I don't do smut, it's just not in me…and honestly I don't mind not being able to write it. I leave that to those who enjoy and have talent for writing it.

I may be expanding on the ICarly cast infusion, but this really isn't their story...they just happen to be here for now. I've already done the disclaimer, but I'm not calling this a true cross-over because it's primarily about the Victorious cast…and as previously discussed they both already exist in the same universe.

-May Dread watch over you- (You'll be meeting a version of him in this story, so watch out.)


	7. IShootVictorious

**AN:** Things are about to get busy…I hope you can keep up.

* * *

About a mile and a half above the ground an older single engine aircraft is carrying several troops being transferred to Camp HellGate, aka LA (until the city is back up and running as a city it will be referred to as a camp, HellGate, by the mass of the military; simply because it will be hell to defend and the gate to future successes).

"This your first trip to the Hellfire State?" The pilot throws back to the female officer wearing civilian garb. He had noticed not only her clothing but the restlessness that she tried to hide. Carly looks forward,

"Yeah, since the name change."

"It's a whole different animal now, especially with the Devil Dyke stirring up the pot." His tone is friendly and even a bit chipper, maybe because he still gets to fly even after losing a leg in a dog fight against a jackal.

"You mean Major Vega, right?" But her tone isn't friendly, a bit more authoritative…as if she were trying to get him to correct himself.

"Hey, I'm a fan of the Devil too. She's making all kinds of shit for these ass-sniffers." His friendly tone doesn't suffer from hers. The colorful reference is to the fact that they look like dogs…not the most intelligent insult, but it seems to have spread pretty far amongst the standard soldiers.

"She's even saved my bacon a few times 'round. Besides it's a nickname from her adoring public." He adds a grin as he turns his head slightly so she can see it.

"Then why not just call her the Devil, or El Diablo?" She rises from her seat and hunches down in between the backs of pilot and co-pilot seats, with one of her arms resting on the top of the back of the latter's seat.

"Colonel Trenton already has the Devil and Captain Jiao has El Diablo. So those are out…like the major." He grins a bit at the joke…she doesn't,

"How about Victory Vega? Or Tori the Conqueror?"

"The Conqueror…not bad, but it doesn't quite stick like Devil Dyke." He shrugs…but he soon feels a piece of cold steel sitting against the back of his head, then the hammer cocks,

"…Say it again and I'll shoot you in the back of your fucking head." Now she grins.

"And we crash to the ground." He states casually.

"I can fly." A brief moment of panic sweeps across his face…then he smiles calmly,

"…I get it, you're one of her conquests, eh?" Carly isn't exactly sure how to deal with that statement so she tells the truth,

"…Yes, I am. But that doesn't mean she's automatically some kind of whoring lesbian slut that sleeps with anything that has a clit." But her tone is laced with a bitter bite.

"Never said she did, I'm sure she turns down all kinds of tail…that I'd kill for." He grins again, larger than before. Carly lowers her handgun, flips up the hammer, and holsters the 9mm back in her jacket. He drops the grin and finally takes a serious tone for once,

"I'm just speaking my mind and telling you that there aren't too many places that soldiers won't call her…the name that shall not be mentioned."

"I know...It just seems so damn disrespectful to someone who has done so much." She sits back down. None of the other solders even made a sound when she pulled her piece on him, they just sat and listened.

"…The Conqueror, eh?" He throws back a smile. She catches it and ghosts her own. The next hour is spent talking rather sociable about the major and how things were going in general. They stayed away from the past, that was something that not many liked thinking about if they could help it.

* * *

Inside the official Office of Western Operations, located in central Nevada, is an empty desk that was supposed to be occupied by the Director himself…but he seems to be located one mile from his new post, unguarded.

"Master Sergeant Puckett, you are one of the toughest, fiercest, and most loyal soldiers to be produced by this war. I need you to help me deal with a certain major in LA." The Western Director inspects the soldier standing at attention in the low lighting of his secret meeting venue.

"Vega." The sergeant sneers the name with a level of vile that should have been saved for the derg.

"I see you know her." The Director grins.

"Yeah, I know the bitch. She turned my best friend into one of her lesbian slut groupies. I told her if I ever saw her again I'd kill her, sir." Her voice is painted with anger as she stays at attention.

"…Now that is certainly something I can use." He chortles lightly. Dropping back to why they were in the dark little room in the first place,

"I'm transferring you to LA to 'assist' Major Vega in securing the city." She frowns,

"I don't do double talk, sir. And I doubt there are any listening devices in an abandoned gas-station crapper." She motions to the aforementioned room that he had chosen for this meeting. He sighs,

"Sorry, old habits die hard. I need you to weaken her position, and I don't care how you do it…Hell, kill her if you **can** get away with it. Whatever it takes to get her transferred away from that command, preferably to some high-risk black-opts mission." His voice graces a bit of diabolical as smirks.

"But you don't want me to straight out kill her?" She seems disappointed that she herself may not be the one that actually kills the major. His face goes even more serious,

"Not unless that's the only way, I am playing a game of politics here, Sergeant. Not being tied to a murderer would be greatly preferred." She nods,

"Yes, sir. I will not fail, sir." Then swiftly departs the room for her waiting transport.

* * *

Back at the Albertan Derg facility the Primarch enters a lower level responsible for reverse engineering their own technology for the benefit of the humans. If they can slow down the Siarch they can flush out his co-conspirators and one of the best ways to accomplish this is by aiding the humans…somewhat. They were not pleased with the mining facility being attacked but they understand why it was done and may be able to use it to their advantage, but still didn't like it jeopardizing the war against the joilpa.

Noticing the data on the screen pointed to a particular project the Primarch inquires to the lead scientist,

"How are things coming on Project Synthos, Calitor?" The doctor wearing a white jumpsuit, not armor, looks over to his leader,

"They are progressing nicely, sir. The ninth test subject is showing a remarkable ability to control our war-techs. At her level of progression the Siarch will lose his main advantage over the human forces." As he brings up the data on the test subject and her abilities thus far as well as the projection for the evolution of her gifts. Primarch nods,

"Good, the Siarch's supporters will waver… But as for right now, we need to give them something to hold off the Vala'al."

"He most likely cut corners in production to finish it early." Calitor brings up his earlier schematics for that very project back when we was in charge of its creation,

"Plus the original had a few flaws that I doubt he fixed, so we should be able to come up with something to aid them, sir."

"Excellent. I shall leave you to it, Calitor." Primarch begins to leave the room…he only pauses as the doctor speaks,

"And I shall make haste to please, Primarch." Calitor calls up various projects they are already working on as he speaks. Primarch grins as he leaves, _'Siarch was a fool to remove Calitor as his chief researcher.'_

* * *

Three hours later at Camp HellGates's main airfield Captain Shay disembarks the transport,

"Thanks for the lift, Lieutenant." Carly throws a wave as she's about to exit the craft. He grins big,

"My pleasure, Captain. Take it easy, and say hello to the Conqueror for me." She smiles, hoping that name will be the one to replace 'Devil Dyke',

"That would be my absolute pleasure, Pecker." Before she departs for the Camp. At some point he told her about a soldier that called him that because it was easier than Peckerellium, his actual name. He does like the name so that's what he tells any soldier he likes to call him…Shay is on the list.

* * *

**Two hours later:**

"How are the western bloc defenses looking?" Major Vega asks the officer in charge of the fortification construction. He grins,

"A hell of a lot better than the eastern and the northern. You and Captain Harris made one hell of an entrance." But he dreads the work load.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Commander Drisco. We try." She smiles like a true wise-ass,

"…If they hold off for another few weeks we'll be ready."

"In another few weeks this will be Derg territory if you don't lose a couple weeks from that estimate." She stares at him sternly. He nods sharply,

"I'll see what I can do, ma'am." Jade has told her time and time again that being a little nicer to the guys fighting beside you might be a good idea, so she tries to soften a bit,

"…Just don't push yourselves to hard, we'll need you guys at peak if we want to stand any chance."

"Sure that takes the pressure off." Noticing that she was trying to not be a dick he offers,

"…Don't worry about it Major, you aren't the first hard-ass CO I've had, and if we're lucky not the last… But I appreciate the sentiment." She smiles nervously…not really liking the feeling of being caught in her attempt at being tolerable.

"Now that's the Tori I love." Carly leaps onto Tori, capturing her in a mighty hug with her legs wrapped around the major's waist. Surprised more by the person than the act Tori stutters,

"Ca-Carly…wh-what are you doing here?" Carly pulls out of the hug, with her legs still wrapped around Tori's waist,

"I got a little leave as a result of my last opt in the frigid north. So I decided to pay my friend Major Vega a visit." Carly drops back to her own feet after a kiss…a long slow kiss that makes Tori tense up.

"Well, it's great to see you…alive and well." Tori looks at her nervously as she takes a step back. Carly easily notices her discomfort,

"Now, if I remember correctly you are never this nervous unless you're keeping a secret."

"I have no idea what you're…I'm boned." Tori drops her head in surrender as Carly laughs,

"Unless you switched teams again I seriously doubt that." Tori brings her head up with a thin smile,

"…It really is good to see you…but there's something I've got to talk to you about." At this point in time she despises how right Andre was about her needing to do this much sooner.

"Your new post, your sister's weird brain, or your girlfriend Captain West?" Carly smiles as none of those options was of any consequence.

"…What were the first two again?" Tori rubs the back of her head as she avoids looking Carly in the eye…or looking at most of the rest of her, for obvious reasons.

"Tori, you're not exactly black opts, like me, news about you gets around. I've known since…hell, like a week after you two started seeing each other. And I understand that in stressful situations you need a little release. So…" Tori cuts her off with a serious tone,

"No. It's not like that with Jade, Carly. She's a lot more than a convenience screw." The words sink in quickly for Carly as she takes a step back,

"Which is apparently what I was…crap, I misread the signals… Damn it, Carly." She slams herself in the head with one of her hands. Slightly confused by the self harm Tori meekly offers,

"…I'm sorry if I…" But Carly interrupts her,

"You? No, this was me getting so damn wrapped up in something that I didn't even pay attention to what I was actually getting myself into." She knows full well that she can sometimes overlook obvious hints about anything romantic…and in this case she completely overlooks the lack of a romantic relationship. In truth she is angrier with herself about missing this than she is about Tori not liking her the same way.

"…I could've been clearer about it. I could've told you at day one that it wasn't going anywhere…but I didn't, this is my fault." But Tori feels that she could have made it clear from the start that their relationship was physical and is more than willing to take the blame she is due.

Their pity-party is interrupted by another captain walking up,

"Sounds to me like you were both being idiots." Captain West smirks at both of them.

"Jade."

"Yes, Major Vega?" Jade asks sweetly as steps closer. Tori shifts her eyes to Carly then back to Jade,

"I-I-I was going to…" But Jade interrupts her,

"Tell me that you had sex with someone before we started our relationship?" Tori remains silent, so Jade proceeds,

"I've heard all about your conquests across the country, fifty-six at last count, right?" Tori looks down, somewhat ashamed of the high number. Jade laughs lightly,

"I don't care about who you've fucked, all I care about is that I'm the only one in your bed now. I'm a little upset that you strung her along, but otherwise…we're good." Then smiles at her lover, who breathes a sigh of relief,

"Truthfully, I kind of expected that I would end up getting shot after you two saw each other."

"Well, let me remedy that…" Sergeant Puckett standing off to the side raises her standard issue sidearm and fires a single shot at Tori…

* * *

**AN:** _'When things are looking up, don't forget to look down…the world isn't exactly flat after all.' -LDS_

Sorry about the cliffhanger… You have to admit that it is a really good place for one though.

This story is fast paced, because I couldn't write it otherwise,

-May Dread watch over you-


	8. Gunshy

**AN:** The semi-anticipated conclusion to 'who shot Tori'…wait, no that's a spoof of an old episode of Dallas… uhm, Sam has a gun, Tori's in her sights…roll clip…(clicking noise from film reel)…

* * *

The shot deeply cuts but doesn't technically penetrate Tori's shoulder as she instinctively falls to her side. Unfortunately the round continues and with the angle of the shot it finds another target…

"Sam…?" As Carly utters her name the bullet is already tearing through her own chest. She staggers forward one step before collapsing to the ground, clutching at the wound. Tori is already beside her applying pressure to the wound as she screams,

"Medic!"

"You're going to be alright…it's not bleeding that badly."

"Restrain her!" Jade screams at two approaching MPs as she points at Sam, who is muttering as she starts shaking,

"I-I-I didn't…I didn't mean…" The MPs have no trouble restraining her as she simply lets them. Jade points in the general direction of the detention center as she barks the order,

"Get her out of here!" Tori stares down into Carly's eyes,

"You're going to be alright, Carly. You're a Striker, you're as tough as they come." And forces a grin. Carly returns the smile as she places a hand on Tori's,

"Thanks, Tor. I'll be alright…" Then she passes out.

"She's unconscious. We need to move it. Radio ahead we need blood." The medic barks as they begin to move off toward the temporary med-center.

"I'm O-, take what you need." The medic nods sharply as grabs an empty IV bag and jabs a needle in her arm. Holding the bag below the entry point the crimson liquid begins to fill the bag as Tori squeezes the little vacuum ball attached to drawl the blood into the bag. It takes her no time to fill the bag as she surrenders it to the medic, who immediately introduces it into Shay's system.

_9Dread9_

An hour later, outside the emergency operating room Tori asks the chief surgeon,

"How's she looking, Doc?" He smiles thinly,

"We were able to stop the bleeding." Tori smiles lightly as well, before he continues,

"The bullet grazed an artery, consequentially she lost a lot of blood…if it hadn't been for your early infusion, she wouldn't have lasted this long." But then he warns,

"But she isn't out of the woods yet…in twenty-four hours we'll know if she'll make it." She nods.

"And if you could find more blood to replace the stores she used up, that would save a lot of other lives, ma'am." He stands up a little straighter as he prepares to depart.

"I'll see what I can do about it, Doc." He nods and moves off as Tori sits on a makeshift bench beside Jade,

"Thanks for being here, Jade. I know this is all kinds of fucked up for you." Tori never makes eye contact as she simply looks at the tile floor.

"One of my girlfriend's 'friends-with-benefits' shows up for some strange, only to have her best friend accidentally shoot her because she was trying to kill you for supposedly turning her into some kind of 'lesbian slut groupie'. Yeah, that's the very definition of fucked up." Jade stares at the wall trying to wrap her head around everything Andre had told her about the sergeant.

"Uhm...?" Tori looks over to the captain, who brings her eyes over to meet her gaze,

"Oh, yeah. Apparently the trauma sent Sergeant Puckett into a confessional frenzy. She's spilling the beans about pretty much everything she's ever done, almost every last secret, and basically every thought she can remember."

"Almost, pretty much?" Tori's mind took notice of the adjectives. Jade smiles thinly at how her major's mind works, then frowns,

"There are some things she just isn't talking about…Andre thinks it's her military mind locking down the classified shit." Tori shakes her head,

"I sometimes forget that Andre is a combat psych analyst…shit, the things you miss when you're friends are scattered to the four winds, uh?" Captain Harris wasn't a fully licensed psychiatrist…but he had taken crash courses in understanding soldiers and what made them tick. A proper psychiatrist would have to preform his/her own analysis of the sergeant, but Andre was fairly good at it.

Jade smiles,

"Like me learning to fly…and that we both discovered our love for a softer touch." As she lightly brushes the back of Tori's hand with her fingers…then she chuckles,

"Well, you can sometimes be as gentle as a herd of stampeding elephants…but you have your moments." Then smiles sweetly at the major, who stares right into her eyes,

"I really wish I had fallen for you sooner."

"Because it would have saved Captain Shay or because you love me?" Jade offers a thin smirk.

"Does it have to be a choice?" Tori matches her.

"Not necessarily, but you owe me dinner in a five-star restaurant when this is all over." Despite the lighter direction of the conversation Jade's eyes betray the pain that has been running to her head at the thought of the sergeant hitting her intended target.

"Done. Even if I have to rebuild it myself." Tori hugs her as she grateful that it wasn't Jade that had been hit…half of her is cursing herself for such a thought, but the other half couldn't stand to live without her rotor-jockey.

* * *

In the school in Kansas, Cam rushes into the president's office, whose occupant takes note of his aid's state,

"What do you have for me, Cam?"

"Captain Shay has been shot by Sergeant Puckett while at in LA, sir." The president stands up and meets Cam at eyelevel,

"Puckett in LA? Why the hell was she there? After her altercation with Major Vega in Alberta the Northern Director said they were never to be in the same state again. Those are three of our finest soldiers, damn it." He slams his fist on the desk and turns to gaze out the window.

"Initial intel says she requested the transfer. But we have no idea how it got approved, sir." At this the president takes a deep breath and speaks calmly,

"Do your thing, Cam. Find out what happened and bring me a head to mount on a pike."

"Yes, sir." Cam departs to initiate his special assignment.

* * *

In his office at the Office of Western Operations the Director laughs,

"Not what I had in mind…but phase one is complete." As he receives the news about Puckett's arrest and Shay's hospitalization. He was disappointed by it not being Vega, but after a second analysis it would be far better to have Vega distraught and not focused on the defense…besides if she had survived it, it would have only made her even more difficult to remove.

* * *

In Alberta the Primarch receives news from Calitor,

"Sir, the first Man-of-War is ready for the first test run." The Primarch smiles baring his fangs in joy at this news,

"Then begin the simulation. I wish to know how much work we still have to put into it before it's ready to face the Vala'al." Calitor nods,

"Of course, sir." He then turns to the slightly chubby augmented human inside the tube of red liquid,

"I know not what the Siarch's plan is, but it was foolish to not ally with these humans. Their genetic structure allows for very interesting augmentations. We might be forcing the joilpa back instead of the other way around…such a waste." He hopes more than any other of his species that they can reconcile with the humans.

* * *

Lieutenant Benson finally receives the news nearly a day later…primarily because he was busy working with Corporal Vega's newly acquired mechs.

"How are you doing, Freddie?" Trina walks up to the lieutenant, who was currently leaning against the railing of the second level of the SCRWA's control pod camber. He was looking down at the metal pod floating in the blue coolant. Not breaking his stare he answers,

"My best friend got shot by my other friend because she was trying to kill a war hero…I'm feeling like fucking fantasia over here." He then looks right as her with a bite as she joins him on the rail.

"I'm not sure what to say since it was my sister that should've been hit." Her earnest statement causes him to drop his eyes back to the pod,

"…right…I guess I'd feel like crap if I told you I'd rather have Tori be the one in the intensive care." Either way he still felt like crap.

"So, you understand that I feel like shit too?" Trina had been working closely with Freddy for six months and knew him pretty well, so she did feel like shit for even being grateful that it wasn't Tori.

"Which sucks, because I can't be angry…not at Tori, not at you, and not really Sam either…" His voice is filled with a directionless anger as if to exemplify his point.

"Hey, I have no idea what her motivation was…but…" He cuts her off with the reason he had received,

"She blamed Tori for turning Carly gay." Trina drops her gaze to the pod as well,

"Oh, sorry…I had no idea. Tori really didn't say much about her time up north." All that she knew was that she had grown close to the captain but not in 'that' way. He smiles thinly at how Carly explained it to him after she was with Tori,

"Carly said it wasn't like that…Tori just showed her something about herself that she figured she had subconsciously hidden from herself. And I believe you can't turn someone gay, sexual attraction's just part of our natural neurochemistry…but Sam isn't so rooted in the science of it." Then he thinks about how pissed Sam was when she found out about Carly and Tori.

"That doesn't mean she…I'm sorry, I don't want to blame her, but she did try to kill my last surviving family member." Trina hates herself for this…but Tori is all she has left, and there is no way she's going to forgive a homophobe that tried to kill her.

"…This is all kinds of fucked up." He looks over at her as he shakes his head.

"Yeah, it really is." She nods in agreement as she places a hand on his shoulder.

* * *

Aboard the Derg flagship the Siarch screams at a subordinate,

"What do you mean there's a problem with the Vala'al?" The scientist shrinks back,

"It won't accept the commands from the pilot, sir."

"Blasted idiot, fix it!" The Siarch casts an arm toward the door with fury in his eyes and voice.

"Yes, sir, Siarch, sir." The scientist scrambles back to the Vala'al as fast as he physically can.

With the room clear the Siarch paces the room factoring in the delay… when he is interrupted by a highly encrypted message.

"…Y-yes, master what is it that you require?" Siarch's anger fades to nothing as he bows before the blurry image.

"I wish to know the progress of your conquest of **'Ear-th'**." The visage offers the human name for the planet with a pained voice as inquires of the skirmishes on said planet.

"We are readying the Vala'al to destroy their resistance, my lord." He hopes this information will garner him some favor… but the visage is unaffected by this,

"I have heard of setbacks in the conquest…they had best be rumors, Siarch." The image becomes larger as the voice bares displeasure. Siarch nervously offers,

"Those were…part of the battleplan, sir. The humans will expend more of their forces if they think they are winning…then we crush them with the Vala'al." he raises his voice to show his confidence in his latest plan. The image snarls,

"You rely too much on tech…that seems to be failing you. You are not difficult to replace, Siarch. Win or find out just out easy it will be for us…" Laughter graces the room before the screen fades to black. The Siarch quickly departs to the Vala'al to make sure it is repaired and ready for his next offensive.

* * *

In the detention center of Camp Hellgate Sergeant Puckett screams from her cell,

"It's not my fault. It's that Vega slut! She should be dead!"

"She seems to have snapped, sir." One of the guards to Captain Harris, who nods,

"Prepare to have her transported to the Topeka facility."

"Yes, sir." The guard salutes to make the preparations.

"I hope you get the help you need, Sergeant." Andre casts a last look at the broken soldier before he departs to inform the psychiatric facility that they are about to have a new patient.

* * *

**AN**: Good, bad, or just plain ugly?

The aliens are technically speaking their own language (which I painstakingly translated for you guys) so that's why Siarch's master says 'Earth' strangely, he's actually saying it in English…which is rather difficult if you don't speak it somewhat regularly…or ever.

And yes, I did need to add in those alien bits…

**Next Chapter**: 'Vala'al Incoming'

-May Dread watch over you-


	9. Vala'al Incoming

**AN:** Wow, this took me way too long to post, seriously a freaking month. Sorry about that… I can't give you a bonus chapter, because I don't have the next one yet… What I can give you is the solemn oath of Dread that I will finish this story. _I the Lord of Dread in my service to the Republic shall not fail to deliver upon you a proper ending._ Signed-LDS

* * *

Over the next week Tori experienced her regular bouts of nightmares, however now mixed in with these were old ones from back when she first started fighting; the ones of her friends and sister being killed brutally in front of her. She had long buried those thoughts…but having Carly bleeding before her brought them all flooding back and then amplified them by adding Jade being the one dying/dead before her. The nightmares kept hounding her until she woke herself up in a cold sweat. But as she looked over to her rose still sleeping beside her, her anxiety began to slip away until she could return to a bit more sleep.

Captain Shay was stable…but in a coma; a complication during a follow-up surgery resulted in her dying for a brief period. She was brought back, but hasn't been conscious since. Major Vega visited her daily, feeling responsible for Carly's current state. The visits were only for a few minutes at a time, but she needed to check in on her…and was often gratefully joined by a supportive Jade, whose entire squad was grounded…fuel was rather limited…untapped reserves and a massive drop-off in vehicles using the rare resource made it stretch out, but they didn't waste it preforming unnecessary fly-bys.

The majority of the Major's time was dedicated to making sure the defenses went up as quickly as possible. Therefore the General would release the remainder of the reinforcements to her, so that she might mount a proper defense against the enemy when they attacked. The work went a little faster than expected as the supplies received a rush order. …Of course the chief engineer should have anticipated that the defense of Hellgate would garner priority shipping, courtesy of an eagle seal. And the work went well...

"Commander, sir. We have the fifties from Tulsa, and the rockets fresh out of Black Stone." The staff sergeant hands the engineer the forms confirming deliver. It may be hell, but at least the bureaucracy was still running smoothly, if only to make damn sure that supplies made it to their destination without being double-booked. The Commander eyes the report,

"That was fast."

"The eagle has great interest in this city, Drisco." Major Vega walks over with a smirk playing on her face…if there was anything that helped her deal with her friend in a coma it was work and teasing humor, something that always made her think of her rose.

"Ma'am." The Commander and sergeant stand at attention. With a motion from the major the commander relaxes,

"You'd think the Detroit boy would have us up there kicking out the rabid dogs." Despite the fact that motor city was actually one of the less damaged cities, many still poked fun of her and her presidential son.

"He knows that LA has a significance to the people. This city once held dreams of stardom, countless universes to escape life, and numerous celebrities to laugh at, admire, and ogle." She makes a few general gestures to the city itself…before continuing,

"Detroit is America's tireless spirit, but this is the city of dreams…and people need dreams, or else they lose hope. …Besides Detroit is still holding on…those clowns make sure of that." She winks, and he shudders at the idea of the modern day berserkers fighting in motor city,

"….Yes, ma'am…and if you run for office you already have my vote." The commander smiles slyly as Tori's furrows into deep consideration,

"Uhm…President Vega. …I like it." Then grins.

"First Lady Vega-West sounds wonderful too." Jade appears from almost out of nowhere…giving Tori a slight cringe at the possibility of another freak attack from within.

"Yes, ma'am it does." The Commander nods as he moves off to ensure that the new equipment gets where it's needed most, leaving his superiors to…_discuss_ one's candidacy.

* * *

High above Hellgate, aboard the derg flagship, Supremacy thinks back to why they even needed to invade this planet as he observes the blue marble in question from a lower observation deck,

_Fifty years ago the Derg first made contact with the Joilpa in the Crystal Spires System. The derg had sent several ambassadors to greet the alien species that had mysteriously arrived in their fringe colony system. _

…_Unfortunately the only thing the joilpa did was bombard the nearby planet and use the corpses of the dead of all life forms, sentient and otherwise, to grow new warriors. Out of the mass of corpses a single plant would grow until it had absorbed all available nutrients. In this state it looked like a massive red and black tree sprouting large orange sacks. From these sacks the joilpa were born, fully mature and ready to fight. _

_The invasion was meticulous. They spared no planet as they slowly coiled toward the derg home-world, Dasrune. The derg forces were able to hold them on multiple fronts, but for every three worlds they held…they lost two. And for every world they lost the enemy replenished its numbers, meaning that a war of attrition would only result in the defeat of the derg. _

_At first the failing empire kept to its ideologies and remained off inhabited worlds. The joilpa didn't, they simply attacked and bolstered their forces further. That's when the Derg High Command made the controversial decision to torch any world they didn't control, that happened to lie in the path of the joilpa advance. Numerous species were ripped from existence at the hands of once noble jackals…but it did slow the growth of the enemy forces. Those lost peoples would have died regardless, but having to slaughter the innocent themselves was a heavy burden on the minds of many of the derg, civilian and soldier alike._

_The Derg High Command used this slight lull to rebuild its fleets, but resources were becoming scarce as the outer planets had been the main source for raw materials. With them gone the derg had to scrounge and recycle to manufacture what was needed…but that only lasted for so long. The desperation for materials forced the Derg High Command to revise another edict and approach a habited world to use its resources for the war effort. However during an incident while attempting first contact with the pink-skins forced the derg to use an alternate method of acquiring the resources necessary…plunder them._

_The early assumptions of the ease of that task have since been crushed by the resistance of the fiercely ingenious species…that truly would have better served the derg as allies. _

Supremacy snarls as he slams his fist into the viewing-wall…leaving a slight indentation in the transparent metal surface. The loud bang generated by this action causes his guards to swiftly enter the room.

"It's nothing of concern. I'm merely frustrated at the Siarch's delays." Wordlessly the guards bow and leave the room, closing the door behind them.

Turning back to the visage of Earth Supremacy sighs,

"Primarch, you better expedite your plan. Siarch is far from inept."

* * *

In Topeka with his head over a series of scattered files the president sighs as his aide enters the room,

"We seem to be in a fair bit of trouble, Cam."

"Sir?" The chief looks up,

"Food shortages for the civilians." As he slides forward the estimates from the agro division. Cam picks up the file as he takes a seat,

"…What can we do, sir?"

"Not much. But if we could keep the derg out of the larger fields then maybe…" He sighs…then chuckles,

"…Pity the derg taste like ass." The comment quickly brings Cam's eyes up from the report and to his boss,

"You've…eaten derg meat, sir?" His response is a nod and,

"Yes, once…but never again." Then he visibly shudders, recalling just how terrible the derg actually taste.

"How…why?" Cam is a bit dumbfounded by this discovery. The chief cracks a smile,

"Before I held this office I was on the front…and I lost a game of five card draw." He very casually admits that he is far from a master poker player, for he was perfectly aware that he had a tendency to wear his emotions on his sleeve.

"You ate derg meat because you lost at a game of cards?" Cam's tone was now showing traces of skeptical.

"Is that so strange?" He asks coolly. Cam shakes his head gently and chuckles,

"Well, it certainly will make an interesting addition to your biography."

"Indeed." The chief nods. His brief reprieve from his actual duties is gone once his mind leaps to the file Cam had just set back down on the desk,

"Now, you wouldn't happen to have any suggestions on how to feed nearly one million people would you?" Asking just on the off chance his aide had a semblance of a theory.

"No, sir. I'm afraid agricultural sciences are not my field." Cam's face and tone are both rather serious, but the pres smiles,

"…Funny." Cam's eyes dance with a moment of confusion…then it dawns on him,

"…Tha…sorry, sir." Dropping his head he sighs out the apology. The president merely laughs at the stupid play on words.

* * *

Strolling into the main lab at the SCRWA facility Corporal Vega makes her way over to Mr. Benson, who is currently face down on a keyboard.

"How you doin' today?" Her rather vocal question forces him to stir. Straightening upright with a mighty yawn he offers lazily,

"…I'd say better, but my face feels like I slept on a keyboard." Giggling Trina points at his head,

"You…have a 'Y' on your forehead."

"So I did sleep on a keyboard." He offers as he plucks the key from his face. Not that she didn't enjoy the light humor she was here to check on him,

"Seriously?" Sighing his face takes a more grave expression,

"…Carly's alive, and Sam's getting help…and I'm stuck here in this damn pit and can't see either of them." He clenches his hands into fists. Trina places a hand on his shoulder,

"I wish I could help you out, but I'm in the same boat." He releases his fists and sighs again,

"Yeah…this war sucks dick." Many of the others could attest to a very similar situation…but Trina knew just the right combination of humor and serious to make their shared hell a little less terrible. This was evident by her next semi-casual remark,

"Oh yeah, big 'n' fat." They both start laughing lightly. Soon she forces him toward the mess and an overdue meal.

* * *

Elsewhere aboard the Derg flagship the Siarch had just received word that the Vala'al had finally been repaired and was ready for deployment.

"Prepare for the assault! You will crush all of these apes like the poiluy that they are! ..." The Siarch's address incites the standard howling of approval from the army waiting groundside. The massive mech known as the Vala'al waiting to the west also has a howl resonating from inside its single pilot cockpit.

The Siarch smiles, taking a great delight in the exhilaration of his forces, _'This is why I should have been the Primarch.'_ He gives the order to launch the attack, then disconnects the link so that he may go laud this assault over Supremacy.

* * *

A super-sized mech is clocked to the east of Hellgate by a small patrol ship.

"What in the unholy hell is that thing?" One of the sailors aboard the PT-3256 inquires as he sees a fast-moving grey blip in the distance, closing quickly.

"Looks like a mech's pissed off big brother on steroids." Another sailor remarks as she eyes it through a pair of high powered binoculars.

"Alert the Admiral! We've got a big one incoming." Commander Mitchel barks as he mans the twin 40mm, there was no chance he was letting it fly-by without a proper welcome.

"Yes, sir!" the petty officer moves off to relay the report as the Commander lines up the shot.

* * *

**AN:** So, again sorry about the wait, and I'm also sorry that I can't promise you when the next release will be, but it will be done.

NC: Reinforcements and a POW

-May Dread watch over you-


End file.
